After the Past Fades
by AngelofSnow
Summary: What if the Cure was permanent? How will Magneto and Mystique deal with being human? Magneto's on the run from the FBI and Mystique has a grudge to settle with him. Can they work out their differences after he abandoned her? MagnetoxMystique
1. Cold and Alone

**After the Past Fades**

Title: After the Past Fades  
Verse: X-Men movieverse  
Timeline: post X-Men: The Last Stand  
Author: AngelofSnow  
Pairing: Magneto/Mystique  
Rating: Eventual M  
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. I am not making any money off of this.  
Summary: AU, The Cure is permanent. How will Magneto and Mystique deal with being human? Can they work out their differences after he abandoned her?

**Dedication:** To **KumaDaPuma** because without her friendship, I never would have realized how cool Magneto/Mystique can be.

**Notes: **As most post X3 stories involving Magneto and Mystique, this has some familiar ground to cover in the beginning, such as the truck scene. You've probably read stories that feature similar events and I do not mean to plagiarize other wonderful stories, such as Lynx Rider's No Promises. It's necessary to take the characters through a few of the same things before this story can diverge off in a very different direction.

**Chapter One: Cold and Alone**

All she really remembered of that day was the cold. The cold, unyielding metallic floor of the truck that had served as her prison. The cold of Erik's rejection and her subsequent abandonment. Everything else that happened that fateful day seemed a blur. Taunting the security guard, thrilling when the moving fortress came to a screeching halt, killing him with her bare feet. Then the elation of finally seeing Magneto coming to her rescue. It all felt like a million years ago.

She'd lain on the floor, covering her body and shivering against the November chill for an indeterminable period of time. She knew she should move, try to run away. But she couldn't will her body to do it. Besides her body didn't even feel like her own. It was the foreign, soft, smooth, pale skin of a human. Her hair, once red and plated to her neck, now hung black and itchy in her face. She shivered trying to come to grips with what had happened. But her mind was still reeling.

She again tried to summon the strength to move but it was beyond her. She tried to cry in self-pity. She tried to hate Erik for leaving her like this. She tried to curse the humans for developing a Cure. But she was incapable of doing anything. All she could feel was shock and disbelief. She lay hopelessly on the hard, ice-cold floor and covered herself as best she could. She wrapped her arms around herself and lay on her stomach leaving her back to the crisp air. She did it more to keep warm than for modesty. She wasn't capable of thinking about the implications of her newly pale skin yet. Everything in her life had changed and it had happened too fast.

A motorist passed the scene not long after the Brotherhood had left and made a cell phone call to 911. The police and EMTs arrived a few minutes later, but to Mystique, shell-shocked and alone, it could have taken hours. She had no sense of time anymore. She knew only that when the humans finally came she was chilled to the bone and gasping for breath. The cold air hurt her lungs as it went down.

When an EMT threw a scratchy wool emergency blanket over her, she was infinitely happy for it. She pulled it tightly around her shoulders to keep warm and ignored the strange looks the male EMTs gave her as they kneeled beside her. When they tried to help her up, she let them, too shaken to put up a struggle. Her stomach protested from being vertical, nauseated from the after effects of the Cure transforming her DNA. The EMTs escorted her to an ambulance and helped her onto the waiting stretcher. It all happened very quickly to something in a daze the way Mystique was.

The warmth from the ambulance's heaters was delicious compared to the cold of the road. In the back of her mind she knew she should protest. She knew she shouldn't accept human kindness and should never let mere humans help her. But she was so cold and her body didn't respond to her mental rebellion. It was easier to lie on the foam of the stretcher and snuggle into her blanket. It was easier to fall asleep as she was transported to a local hospital.

000000000000

"Ms. Darkholme."

"Ms. Darkholme."

Mystique awoke in a hospital room a few hours later; she was disoriented and confused. She tried to move her arms as she opened her eyes and found out she couldn't.

She was handcuffed to a hospital bed with an IV stuck in her arm. Her mind raced to remember the events that had put her here: being 'cured' and Erik leaving her to freeze. Being reminded of her transformation and abandonment depressed Mystique deeply and she turned her head away in disgust, burrowing it into the uncomfortable hospital pillow.

A doctor was addressing her; waking her from her rest. Now he was blabbing on about the effects of the Cure on her mutant body. She ignored him.

Her head ached and her stomach felt queasy. She looked up at the handcuffs that held her to her bed. No doubt they had a guard stationed at her door as well. She was still a convicted terrorist after all. But this time the handcuffs were normal police ones, thin and cheaply made. They were nothing like the thick, electro-pulse shackles that had held her when she was a mutant. If she could just get to a small piece of metal… like the needle from the IV in her arm, she could pick the lock easily.

"Please Ms. Darkholme. We need to discuss your care." It was the doctor again. He was in just the right spot. She could hit him where it hurt with her left foot followed by a blow to the head and he'd be out cold.

The Doctor gave up waiting for Mystique to pay attention to him and continued talking.

"I'm Dr. Jarvis and I'll be your physician for the next few days. You were in shock and suffering from hypothermia after you were rescued."

Nothing Mystique didn't already know. She regarded the middle-aged white haired doctor with aversion as she plotted. After she knocked him unconscious she could use her toes to pull the IV out of her arm and unlock her cuffs. It would take her two minutes tops.

"I need to test you to make sure your Cure treatment was successful. Sometimes more than one dose is needed to ensure permanent-"

"It might not be permanent?" She turned and looked at the doctor, abandoning her plans to knock him unconscious.

"Don't get me wrong. The Cure is 98 effective, but sometimes in the very young or in particularly powerful mutants it can take several doses to subdue the mutant X gene."

Mystique looked hopeful. Maybe she had a chance to get her life back after all.

"I'm going to swab your cheek for a DNA sample and we'll send it off to the lab. It should take about a day to get the results."

Against her will, Mystique felt hope rise in her chest. She wasn't all that powerful a mutant, only class 3, but she was healthy and in good shape. Maybe her body would reject the changes in time and purge the DNA from her system. She had to stick around the hospital long enough to find out what her chances were. She had to know if there was a way to reverse this travesty.

The doctor swabbed, checked her pulse and blood pressure then wrote the information down on a chart. Mystique submitted to it with no outward resistance but inside her anger was growing. Here in the hospital, smelling antiseptic with a needle in her arm she began to process just what had happened. Her mutation, no… her whole life had been stolen from her in the blink of an eye. And Erik, the one man she had trusted and loved had left her on the side of the road like a piece of trash. Now she was back in police custody, praying she wasn't cured forever as a half-rate doctor, in a backwater town prodded her. His presence there: human and helpful, bothered her.

"Is there an antidote? Anyway to reverse the Cure's effects? Can it fade with time?"

"Reverse it? Why in heaven would you want to do that? No, it's usually a permanent change. In rare cases some mutation can return. We only have data on patients who've taken it a year ago or less. They've all had remarkable success on it."

The Doctor continued checking her, and internally Mystique loathed every second with him. She hated his type that believed mutation was a disease that no one would want. She glared at him, but without yellow eyes, it was significantly less effective as usual.

"That reminds me. I should check you for side effects."

"Side effects?"

"With all gene manipulation therapy there can be significant, but rare side effects. They're usually uncommon, but we've seen things like rejection, genetic instability, non-replicable sequences, irregular blood-cell counts, increased risks of cancer, early onset of menopause, changes in thyroid function and reproductive function."

"The Cure is poison." Mystique looked down at her skin, pale and smooth, like it was the outward manifestation of hatred and prejudice. Her new human skin reminded her of Erik's tattoo on his left forearm. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of him.

"Oh, no. It's giving hope to millions of mutants. Haven't you seen the news?" The good doctor's chipper voice grated Mystiques frazzled nerves and she stared daggers at him. He ignored the palpable change in her demeanor and used the remote control to flick on a TV set in the hospital room. CNN came on and Anderson Cooper, white-haired just like the Doctor and Erik, was reporting from the scene of the Worthington Labs Alcatraz Research Facility.

Dr. Jarvis left her to watch the media coverage, taking the DNA sample with him. Mystique's hopes rested on the tiny cheek swab. She desperately wished the Cure was temporary and soon she would be back to her old self. But until she knew… she had to bide her time and wait.

0000000000000

**Notes:** Give me some feedback. Is it too angsty or not enough? How's Mystiques characterization? Tips, pointers, and constructive criticism always welcome. I promise starting in the next few chapters the story begins to radically diverge from any previous Magneto x Mystique stories you may have read.

**Preview: **Mystique learns her test results. Will she ever again be a mutant? Will she be incarcerated for her anti-human terrorism activities?


	2. Anger Does the Body Good

**After the Past Fades**

Title: After the Past Fades  
Verse: X-Men movieverse  
Timeline: post X-Men: The Last Stand  
Author: AngelofSnow  
Pairing: Magneto/Mystique  
Rating: Eventual M – a lot of language in this chapter  
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. I am not making any money off of this.  
Summary: AU, The Cure is permanent. How will Magneto and Mystique deal with being human? Magneto's on the run from the FBI and Mystique has a grudge to settle with him. Can they work out their differences after he abandoned her?

**Dedication:** To **magnetosdaughter** (**imaginaryalice**) for introducing me to a new pairing and building it up from scratch all by herself. Her dedication and hard work are inspiring.

**Notes: **In the next few chapters we'll hear Mystique's story immediately following her abandonment. Look for my attempt to add depth to Mystique's character which throughout the movies and comics has been, for lack of a better word, mutable.

**Chapter Two: Anger Does the Body Good**

Mystique ignored the 13in hospital TV screen with open disdain. Watching the pitiful mutants throwing away their genetic gift was insufferable. There were a few people with the right idea, Cure protestors, but for every protestor there were three dumb saps waiting in line to receive the drug. Mystique couldn't watch them do it. She couldn't watch as each lost, confused mutant let the humans steal their life from them.

Mystique couldn't watch them take the Cure because there was a time many years ago when it might have been her in that line, desperate to be human, to be normal again. That was before she'd met Erik. Before he'd taught her to value herself and what she was capable of. And now… now it hurt to think about Erik. She didn't want to remember him or the fact that she was now a human. She used the remote to shut off the TV despondently. She didn't know what she would do if she was stuck like this. She could only pray it was temporary and sleep.

00000000000000

Mystique awoke a few hours later to the squeaky sound of a nurse's sneakers. The windows outside revealed a black night sky. It was evening. She must have slept through most of the day. That was probably for the best.

The nurse was short and pudgy and dressed in lavender hospital scrubs. She was plain looking and seemed tired which contrasted with the irritatingly bright smile she never took off. She studied Mystique's chart for a few moments, scanning it with quick eye movements.

"You're due some medicine honey. Says here you took the Worthington Mutation Cure this morning."

"Yes." _Best not to explain_, Mystique thought to herself. She'd be out of here in the morning, after she found out from the Doctor if her condition was transitory.

"You're the first patient I've seen who has taken it. How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine." Mystique said, refusing to elaborate further on her physical or emotional state.

"That's good. Some patients can be a little disoriented at first. But you look very well. You've got no visible signs of mutation. You look perfectly human."

Mystique didn't let on how deeply the nurse's words cut her. The last term she had ever wanted to hear describe her was 'human'. On instinct she morphed out of her disguise back into her blue form, only to remember that that power was denied her now. When she attempted to control the look and shape of her form, her head hurt a little and nothing happened. Her mutation was gone.

The nurse was oblivious to Mystique's growing rage and produced a small plastic pill cup with two orange colored pills.

"These are immunosuppressants. You'll need to take them for three days to make sure your body doesn't reject the Cure."

"I don't want them." The nurse didn't miss the edge to Mystique's voice.

"They're for your own safety honey. Best you take them."

"No."

"The Cure may not work if you don't. You'll turn back into one of those mutant creatures. Says on your chart you were blue and scaly."

"I _want_ to be a mutant."

The Nurse's enduring smile pursed a bit, but prevailed. "I'll leave a note for Psych to talk to you tomorrow, but tonight you're following the doctor's orders and taking these pills."

The nurse tried to hand Mystique the cup of pills only to realize she couldn't take it. Her hands were cuffed to the bed railings.

"What did you do?" The Nurse's smile was gone and she spoke accusatorially.

"I fought for mutant rights. I fought against prejudice humans like you."

That gave the Nurse some pause, but didn't faze her for long. Years' worth of inborn prejudice wasn't going to be challenged so easily. Her beliefs weren't even shaken. But her smile did fade. And to Mystique that was victory enough.

"I'm going to administer these meds and Psych will talk with you in the morning." The nurse pulled latex gloves out of a drawer near Mystique's bed. She used one gloved hand to pry Mystique's mouth open; the other to pop the pills in. Mystique, chained to the bed, struggled only shortly, choosing instead to maintain her dignity.

The nurse held out a cup of water. "Drink this down."

Mystique glared at her with her newly grey eyes, no longer yellow, but filled with every bit as much venom. The Nurse bent down to hold the water cup to her lips.

Mystique waited till she was right in front of her face and then spit the pills back at her. The Nurse shut her eyes and backed away. She dropped the cup of water and wiped Mystique's spittle off her forehead. The Nurse fled from the room, her smile reduced to an angry scowl much to Mystique's enjoyment.

At the doorway the Nurse stopped and said, "Pysch will be here in the morning to talk with you."

0000000000000

The meeting with Psychology was rather fun for Mystique. A nurse, a different one, awoke her at 5AM for her meeting. Likely a bit of revenge since the psychoanalyst didn't stop by her room until 7. He was a 45 year old man, with a beard and a nasal voice. Mystique instantly found him condescending and trite. He kept asking her generalized questions about her identity as a mutant and her anti-human sentiment. She refused to answer and remained silent no matter how many times he pressed her. Every time she didn't answer he wrote himself a note on a yellow legal pad.

Once he realized she wasn't going to break down and open up he decided he would tell her his findings from the little he knew about her which he'd gleaned from her government file. He suggested her father might be responsible for her rebellious streak. He felt that she had a father complex and that explained Magneto's influence over her. Then he had the gall to conclude she was stunted at an adolescent emotional maturity level from abandonment by her parents.

Although he was a blatant idiot, Mystique let the man go unharmed. He had been very entertaining for a typically prejudice human. As for her mental state, Mystique knew exactly what it was: scared, depressed, and angry with a touch of homicidal violence.

000000000000

Waiting for Dr. Jarvis to return with her DNA test results was agonizing. Hours passed and Mystique was getting anxious. She was chained to the bed with nothing to take her mind off her situation and she didn't like it. The last thing she wanted to do was think about what she would do if she was permanently a human. She didn't want to think about the change it would bring in her life.

She focused instead on the immediate, the practical. And that meant escape. Once she knew her test results she was getting out of this hospital and out of police custody. The first step was freeing herself from her chains. She had to get out of the handcuffs. _They're attached to the bed railings, but the bed railings can be raised or lowered. That means they can be removed as well. But how?_

Mystique was exceptionally cunning and amazingly flexible. Using only her feet and the wheeled IV stand next to her bed she pulled over a wheeled bed stand of drawers. Using her toes she opened the drawers which were filled with medical supplies. The bottom drawer was empty. A patient's personal effects would be stored there. But she had been brought in with nothing. _Left with nothing by Erik. No, don't think about him._

She searched through the drawers with her feet, straining her neck to see what was inside. Nothing looked very promising for unscrewing the bed railings. She was about to give up before she saw a flash of reflection. There was a mirror in the fourth drawer down. Her toes picked it up and angled it to where she could see the bed railings from the side.

There in bold letters a big white and yellow safety sticker read: "TO LOWER RAILINGS: PULL LEFT AND PUSH DOWN. TO DETACH RAILINGS: PULL TOWARDS YOU."

Mystique could have cried for joy! Humans were just as incompetent as ever. No jail would hold her for long! She wanted to pop the railings to see if they did indeed detach but thought better of it when she realized how much noise it would make. She used the TV remote control to flick on the TV and turned the volume up. Best to drown out the sound for safety. Her activities were fairly exposed in the hospital room. There was no door.

A commercial blared and then a moment later the main program came on. But it was 11am and the program was none other than ABC's "The View". Mystique heard the shrill jabbering of the hands-down most annoying women on television.

"Not this show. Anything but this." She stopped her work on the railing to switch channels.

The railings did indeed pop off when pushed away from Mystique (or towards an attending nurse or doctor.) That meant Mystique was free to go when she pleased, but she would still be carrying the railings around as her handcuffs were firmly attached. She had to get them off. She remembered seeing syringe needles in one of the drawers. They would work as a lock pick if she was lucky.

She was an expert at covert ops and even the art of lock picking did not escape her. These were standard police handcuffs, some of the easiest to pick yet they eluded her. The needle was an awkward lock pick in her chained hands and she fought with the metal to release her.

By the time her right hand was free the metal handcuffs were driving her crazy. The last thing she needed right now was a piece of cold unfeeling metal encircling her wrist. The entire material of metal was tainted by association with Erik. And she didn't want anything around her that reminded her of him. She wanted to forget he had ever existed.

She worked furiously at the left handcuff chaining her to the left bed railing. She was growing impatient and she wanted to flee this hospital soon. Just as soon as she learned those test results. She stopped suddenly when she heard her name on TV.

"The department of Homeland Security reports that the known anti-human terrorist Mystique remains in custody after a failed escape attempt yesterday. Mystique is a minor member of the 'Brotherhood of Mutants'. The FBI's most wanted suspect Magneto was part of the escape plot which was foiled by new technology. Mystique remains in police custody. Republicans are claiming this as a victory for their increased funding of defense and homeland security."

It was the 12 o'clock news program reporting on her. And they called her a minor member of the Brotherhood! Minor! She had been Erik's second-in-command. And the escape hadn't been a failed one: Erik had added Juggarnaut and Multiple Man to the Brotherhood's ranks. How did the news get off reporting such total falsehoods.

Mystique shut off the TV in disgust again and went back to picking the lock that bound her. If she had her way, she would have every human killed. Erik should have been successful when he was using Xavier to kill them all. The world would be a better place in her opinion. Humans were insipid, cruel, unfeeling creatures bent on suppressing minorities, spreading hate, and generally pissing her off. She'd be happy to see them all dead. Even though she was now one of them.

0000000000000

By the time Dr. Jarvis stopped by Mystique was carefully prepared. Her handcuffs were unlocked but remained on her wrists for show. Her IV needle was pulled out of her arm. The blanket was strategically draped over her arm and hands so as not to arouse suspicion.

"How are you feeling today Ms. Darkholme?"

She wanted to correct him and tell him her name was Mystique, but she wasn't sure of it anymore. Was she still the mutant Mystique or was she only Raven Darkholme?

"I'm fine. What were my test results?" She was dying to know. He smiled at her.

"They turned out just fine. Your body has reacted well to the Cure and I can say with confidence that there's little chance of your mutation returning. You should be able to live a completely normal life."

Under the blanket and sheets her hands balled into fists and she bit her lip to keep from screaming.

"But it's reversible right? Tell me it's reversible."

"No, your diseased DNA has been replaced with healthy DNA. It should provide you with a permanent-"

He was standing in the right spot again and this time Mystique did not hesitate. Her foot whacked him firmly in the crotch and he crumbled to the floor. She slid her wrists from the unlocked handcuffs and leaped from bed to land behind him. Her hands grasped his head and jaw, a quick snap broke his neck.

"Mutation isn't a disease," she whispered in the dead man's ear. "We're the cure for human flaws."

She caught herself. It wasn't 'we' anymore when she spoke of mutants. As Erik had said she wasn't one of them anymore. And she never would be again. _Damn the humans. Damn Erik. Damn the Cure. Damn everything. _

Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks but she took a few deep breathes and held herself together. She was close to freedom now; she could smell it. She'd think about this later.

Without the ability to morph into the Doctor's body, Mystique was forced to undress him and use his clothes as her own. Everything was too big on her but she thought it looked decent enough for a quick escape. Dr. Jarvis' white coat, badge, and stethoscope added rank, if no one looked too closely she would walk right out the hospital. The key was to appear as though she belonged.

Leaving her room she walked calmly and slowly past the receptionist's desk, not sparring him a glance. Dr. Jarvis' long pants covered the fact that she had no shoes to wear. Mystique thought she could feel eyes watching her. She did her best to keep calm. Disguise was much less nerve wracking when you could _become_ the person you were pretending to be.

With slow paced steps she walked down the wide, white hospital halls. She knew from the view out her hospital window that she was several stories up. Mystique looked for a way down as she pretended to knew where she was going. _There an elevator and stairs. Best to take the elevator. It arouses less suspicion. _

She pressed the button and waited, hands folded politely in front of her. _She was a doctor at this hospital. She was going down in the elevator to check on her patient. She worked here. It was a day like any other. Nothing to be nervous about._ Reciting this over and over in her mind helped to keep her calm. The elevator was agonizingly slow.

_Where the hell is this elevator?_

The doors finally slide open to reveal another occupant. An African American male surgeon in blue hospital scrubs. She stepped inside and was careful to appear tired and at ease, just like any other doctor would be.

"Going down?"

"Yes, first floor."

"Err..." he stuttered, "Main level or lobby?"

"Lobby." She laughed. That was a bad slip. _Why didn't she look at the floor lettering on the elevator control? _

"You must be new." He laughed and smiled with her. _He's flirting with me._ She looked him up and down. _He's not bad looking. Rather handsome. Not Erik, but…_

"I'm just here to assist on a case. The cured mutant. I'm a genetic therapy specialist."

"Ahh. I'm Dr. Reeves. You can call me Ted." He extended his hand and she shook it.

"I'm Amanda. Dr. Amanda Bennington." His eyes narrowed.

"That's not what your badge says."

_Fuck!_ The shock was evident on her face. She struggled to recover and laughed nervously, but he had caught her.

"I'm sorry. I just don't like getting picked up in elevators. So I gave you a fake name." It was the best cover she could manage under the circumstances. _I really, really miss my mutation._

"You're not Dr. Jarvis. I know Dr. Robert Jarvis." His hand shot out and he pushed a button the elevator. "Security! Security!"

A man she had been ready to flirt with only moments ago, Mystique was now quite ready to kill if she had to. She pushed him back into the solid wall of the elevator and bashed his head against it until he lost consciousness. She couldn't believe he'd seen through her disguise so easily. She had thought she was a good liar.

She stopped the elevator immediately. It was at the main level and not lobby but she had to move. She had to gain ground and get away from where the surgeon's alert signal to security had come from.

She was prepared to run when the doors of the elevator opened. And she would have. If not for the three guards with revolvers pulled and aimed at her. They closed in on her tightly and she considered how many she could take down before one could get a shot off. At least one, maybe two. But the third guy…

A fourth appeared from around the corner holding a taser gun.

"Stand down or I'll be forced to stun you."

Mystique sneered at him. They weren't prepared to shoot a pretty human woman with real guns. _All the better._ _Maybe I can make an escape._

"Go ahead shock me you bastard. I can take the pain."

He did.

It was excruciating but Mystique ripped the electrodes off long before they paralyzed her. The 50,000 volts had run threw her body for three seconds and slowed her significantly. Five seconds later her face was pressed against the floor as the security guards cuffed her again.

0000000000000

**Replies: **

**Psycix: **Thanks. I know it's hard to ship M/M after X3. But we keep trying.

**XChocolateChipX:** You are the absolute sweetest Chip. Just like your name sake.

**Frankie:** I started with Magneto/Rogue because I've always been a Magneto fan and a Rogue fan so the pairing was a natural favorite for me. But **KumaDaPuma** helped me to see how interesting a character Mystique can be and I've become a big Mystique fan. She's got a mean streak and she's sort of a femme fatal. She's a little selfish and she passionately defends her own rights. So little of Mystique's character is seen in the movies. Like most of the more minor characters she doesn't get enough screen time for us to really understand her. And that originally was a fact that kept me from liking the character. But then I realized that just left Mystique more open for interpretation and I was instantly attracted to her. I'm so happy someone checks my profile page. Yay!

**KumaDaPuma:** I totally understand you being upset over your favorite pairing being treated so heinously in X3. I'm not sure if I have a favorite OTP in X-Men. I just sort of adore Magneto with any character. I know that I cried for several days when Carth and Revan didn't end up together in Kotor 2. It affected me greatly. There's supposed to be a Kotor 3, but it's only rumor.

I have a few actually original ways of justifying Erik's abandonment of Mystique. I'm introducing several novel concepts (as in I don't think they've been done before) to soften the blow. And then I've spent an inordinate about of time ruminating on what Erik was thinking in that prison when he turned his back on her. I think I can do the scene some justice. A thousand people have already wrote it, so I have to hope no one has written it like this before.

And I'm working hard on my Mystique characterization. It's clearly one of the biggest challenges in this story. So little is known about her and so much of this story is carried by Mystique.

As for the doctor… well all humans are portrayed as almost universally ignorant and prejudice in X-Men. Humans are always the enemy it seems. The doctor is a stock character. As are, basically everyone else from this chapter. But that will change very soon.

**Notes:** Dr. Jarvis was meant to be a take off of the proliferate and constant Lipitor ads featuring Dr. Robert Jarvik in the U.S. I have personally seen an ad for the drug Lipitor about 400 times. The random surgeon at the end reminded me greatly of someone off of Grey's Anatomy but I resisted out rightly naming him Preston Burke. Although I do love Burke.

**Preview:** The repercussions of Mystique's failed escape. She is released back to police custody. But someone comes to her rescue. Who could it be? Find out in the next episode of After the Past Fades.


	3. Comfort in Unexpected Places

**After the Past Fades**

Title: After the Past Fades  
Verse: X-Men movieverse  
Timeline: post X-Men: The Last Stand  
Author: AngelofSnow  
Pairing: Magneto/Mystique  
Rating: Eventual M  
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. I am not making any money off of this.  
Summary: AU, The Cure is permanent. How will Magneto and Mystique deal with being human? Magneto's on the run from the FBI and Mystique has a grudge to settle with him. Can they work out their differences after he abandoned her?

**Dedication:** To **GenkaiShihan** because she's been sticking with her NaNoWriMo and I have the greatest respect for her.

**Notes: **Yup, I took forever writing this. My apologies.

**Chapter Three: Comfort in Unexpected Places**

The police took no chances after Mystique's violent escape attempt. As a wanted terrorist recently responsible for one homicide and one assault, she was kept under constant guard by two federal marshals. Mystique's health needed to be monitored for another two days to be assured the Cure and the shock of the taser gun did her no harm. She remained in the hospital, both her hands and feet bound. She was thoroughly drugged into heavy sedation. After the death and injury of two of their own, the nurses and doctors rarely bothered her. She slept the peaceful sleep of the drugged until she was roused by several FBI officers prepared to take her away.

The FBI and Department of Defense were eager to have Mystique as a witness. They knew Magneto was gearing up for an assault against humans but they didn't know his target or what the capabilities of his assembled army would be. Mystique's testimony was vital. No longer a mutant, abandoned by her leader, they hoped the new Mystique, nay Raven Darkholme, would be softened up and ready to talk.

Mystique had no clothes when she was brought to the hospital; she left in orange prison garb, her wrists and ankles chained. She was actually a little happy to be restrained. At least they respected her this time. She'd hated the idea that they thought her weak now that she was a human.

Mystique left the hospital seated in a wheelchair, well restrained, and surrounded by six FBI agents, two with their weapons drawn, safeties off. It was good to know they still considered her a threat. But she wasn't planning to escape at that moment. Not only were the odds highly against her, but the fight had been taken out of her. She was a human now, not a mutant. And even the valium still running through her system couldn't dull the gut-wrenching effect the information had on her.

She needed to know what she was going to do before she tried to escape again. She needed a plan. She needed to know where she would go. The Brotherhood had abandoned her. How could she run away if she didn't know where she was running to? Next time she made to escape, she wasn't going to go off half-cocked.

Best to learn what information she could from the FBI agents.

"Where am I going?"

"Jail." The FBI agent said pithily. He must have been told not to flirt with her; his eyes never turned from straight ahead of him. The gun toting female marshal beside him gave Mystique a nasty look as though to say 'You're not allowed to talk.'

"Very funny. Where?"

The male FBI agent looked back at his armed female companion and she shook her head.

Mystique would learn nothing from them.

00000000000

From the hospital, Mystique was transported in a government van. She watched the highway signs faithfully to garner information about her location. The shoulder of highway was desolate: evergreen trees and fields left fallow. She was in a rural, forested area, but beyond that the foliage was too nondescript to judge. The signs were no more helpful: names of small towns she'd never heard of.

After riding for what felt like two hours, Mystique saw signs indicating an airport. It was one she'd never heard of the name. That meant it had to be a small regional airport. Mystique spent the rest of the ride conjecturing on where her flight destination was likely to be. The Federal agents indicated she was likely to end up in a federal pen. The only thing Mystique knew about her location was that she was probably somewhere in the Northwest. That meant her prison had to be to the East or South. Not much to go on.

"Where am I headed? Guantanamo Bay?" Her voice sounded dry and unused. The valium still making her words come out rushed.

The Federal agents sitting in front of her looked at each other but said nothing. She turned to look at the agents behind her, but they turned their heads away and did not meet her eyes.

For some reason they didn't want her to know where she was going. Come to think of it, no one had read her the Miranda rights or charged her with any crime. They hadn't even questioned her about her escape attempt or the death of Dr. Jarvis. But then again, she had already been a prisoner when she came to the hospital. Still this didn't seem like normal procedure. It stank something rotten.

_Fucking Patriot Act. _

000000000000

The plane ride was a little more helpful.

After being padded down twice by the TSA, Mystique was escorted by two different agents to the departures gate. One agent was a middle-aged Hispanic man in good shape. The other was a heavy set young Caucasian man who kept thumbing through two girly rags he'd bought at the newspaper stand, paying little or no attention to Mystique, his prisoner.

She knew she ought to make a break for it now. The heavy agent was distracted. And if she hit the middle-aged one quickly enough he would go down without a fight. The orange prison garb would be minor hindrance, but the airport was bound to have only a small security staff. If she hit the first guard with a two-fisted blow to the back of the neck…

But what was the point? She was human. She couldn't morph. She couldn't escape. And if she did, she had nowhere to go. And no one would help her. Even Erik wouldn't help – _No, don't think about that. Think about anything but that. _

Mystique scanned the departures board furiously. And since there were only two flights scheduled in the next hour, it wasn't hard for Mystique to learn she was bound for Washington, D.C. That made sense. Federal agents, D.C. … All the pieces were falling into place. She wasn't just going back to prison; they were taking her to the capital to be interrogated. Either FBI or DoD. Last time she'd been kept in a secret location and never tried for any crime. But this time she had no leverage with the Brotherhood. No terrorist ties. They would have to give her a trial. She hoped. If it was DoD they could still lock her away forever and throw away the key.

Mystique's head kept spinning around in circles as she boarded the plane. She tried to guess which route the government would take. They could keep her as a terrorist suspect and hold her against her will indefinitely. Or now that she was no longer a threat, they could release her into the general prison population. In which case, any future escape became much easier.

The thing that worried Mystique the most was how little she cared which fate would be hers.

"Are you comfortable?" It was the Hispanic agent. He politely asked her the question as they settled into their seats in first class. "I can put your seat back and then clamp your restraints in. Or do you want to remain upright?"

Mystique was taken aback by her wishes even being considered. She wasn't used to it. It took her a while to answer.

"Upright is fine." The agent strapped her in.

"Is this too tight?"

"Yes." The agent readjusted the handcuffs and ankle restraints that bound her to the seat, making them a little less tight, allowing her a few more inches of free movement.

Meanwhile the heavy agent sat in the row in front of them, oblivious to their interaction. He was already ordering food from the flight attendant.

Mystique looked over at the agent who had shown her some kindness.

"You know I could kill you in less than two seconds with my cuffs this loose." Her face was blank and her tone factual.

"I know. I read your file."

"Then why risk it?"

"I trust you."

Mystique laughed.

"I'm surprised you've survived this long. One day a prisoner you trust is going to snap your neck."

"I know you won't try to escape. I've read your file."

"If you've read my file you know I killed a doctor only two days ago."

"A doctor who was an anti-mutant bigot. If you didn't try to run back in the terminal when you had a better chance of escaping, you're not going to try on board an aircraft at 30,000 feet."

Mystique looked over at the agent. It wasn't like the government to hire someone who was smart. The agent gave her a friendly smile.

"I'm Agent Menendez."

"Excuse me if I don't shake hands." Mystique raised her cuffed hand. She turned her head away to look out the window next to her. She disliked pleasantries. The agent's manner unsettled her for some reason. She wasn't used to people being kind to her without wanting something in return.

"And your name is Mystique."

Mystique turned back to look at her hand. The skin was soft, unblemished, and delicately pink. She had no calluses on her palm or the pads of her fingers. Her face betrayed no emotion as she looked up at Agent Menendez.

"Not anymore. It's Raven Darkholme."

"It said in your file you only go by Mystique and woe to anyone who called you by, as you put it, your 'slave name.'"

"That was before. I'm not Mystique anymore."

"Fair enough." Agent Menendez looked away for a second. His lips shifted into a frown and he shook his head. He had read her file, so he knew exactly how she had lost her mutation and the name Mystique. "Can I get you anything from the flight attendant?"

"No."

"If it's any condolence, I'm sorry about what happened to you. The Cure wasn't meant to be a weapon."

Mystique chuckled.

"Do you tell yourself that so you can sleep at night?"

Agent Menendez didn't answer for a few moments. He appeared to be genuinely considering Mystique's question. She was surprised with him.

"It wasn't the right thing to do. Using the Cure as a weapon. Most of the government agrees it's not ethical to use it like that. But some of the men in power… they can be ruthless about getting what they want. And right now they're trying to cover their asses."

For the first time Mystique really looked at Agent Menendez. He was smart, intuitive, and kind hearted. But he was troubled also. She was an expert at reading people, learning everything about them in a mere glance. And Agent Menendez was easy to read. She knew by the lines on his forehead, the tired slump of his shoulders, that he suffered under an unspoken burden.

"Why are you sympathetic to mutants?"

"They deserve the same rights as anyone else." Menendez answered too quickly, as though he had memorized the phrase and repeated it a thousand times before. But Mystique knew when someone was lying. She did it so often herself it was second nature to her. But for everyone else, lying took effort. And she noticed that effort.

"What's the real reason?"

Menendez hesitated, glancing at his partner in front of him. The heavy agent was suitably distracted, with ear phones over his head watching the in flight movie Ice Age 2: The Meltdown. Menendez's voice dropped notably lower.

"My daughter…"

"I see. What's her mutation?"

"She has enhanced vision. She can see everything on a microscopic level and far away, such as stars in the sky like a telescope." Agent Menendez looked into Mystique's grey eyes. Mystique's face, so often cold and expressionless softened. "But she's unhappy. She's 14, and she wants to take the Cure to fit in with the other kids at school. They taunt her and ostracize her. Even her teachers treat her unfairly."

Mystique didn't answer for a moment, reigning in the violent hatred of the Cure that swelled within her. It was difficult not to let it blind her. She wanted to tell him that his daughter should never take the Cure under any circumstances, but she owed Menendez more than that. She owed him the respect to think about his daughter's situation rationally. He had been kind to her, when no else, not even Erik had. _Oh god, Erik!_

Mystique physically winced just thinking about him. She let on a deep breath of pain and anger as she felt her chest tighten at the mere mention of her former lover, leader, and friend.

Menendez noticed her pain.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Mystique steadied herself and began shortly, "Mutants face a very different world out there. Our lives are… terrible at best. But our gifts, our mutations, there's a reason we have them. We're a product of nature, not a disease to be cured. Your daughter is young, Agent Menendez. When she's older she could regret giving away her gift. Tell her to wait. If she still feels the same she can take it when she's older."

"Thank you."

"When I was her age I would have given anything not to be a mutant." It was Menendez's turn to be shocked.

Their conversation did not continue after that. Menendez was polite enough to get Mystique a drink from the flight attendant's tray. She ignored it. She was lost in faded memories of her youth. The silent pain of kids' taunting her at school. The hollow, empty feeling of the day the school principal said she could not continue to attend high school. The way her father had looked at her before he tried to kill her. He had been no Agent Menendez, asking for advice from other mutants.

And with those memories came the worst memory of all: the way Erik had saved her from all that.

000000000000

Mystique was nudged away by Agent Menendez after the plane landed. She had done something she would have thought impossible: slept peacefully surrounded by strangers, vulnerable and bound. _It had to have been the valium_, she told herself.

All the other passengers had disembarked by the time Mystique was escorted off the plane. The two agents flanked her as she entered the arrivals area.

A crowd surged forward and lights flashed at her. Everywhere were video cameras, journalists, and microphones thrust in front of her like a tsunami wave.

"Mystique, is it true Magneto broke up with you?"

"Ms. Darkholme were you in a relationship with Mr. Lensherr?"

"How does it feel to be cured of your mutantcy? Any plans?"

000000000000

**Notes:** I make way, way too many references to America's War on Terror. Forgive me. Also I wanted to break the stereo type in X-Men that all humans are completely non-understanding to mutant feelings and needs. So I created a character that at least tries to do the right thing: Agent Menendez. What do you think? Too much description or not enough description? Do I have the right balance of dialogue and exposition? And do Mystique's feelings in this chapter sound believable and in character?

**Preview:** Will Mystique answer the reporters? What will happen to Mystique's freedom? Is she going to jail for life?


End file.
